Have A Little Faith In Me
by SimpleTune
Summary: Kurt Hummel has just left that awful Dave Karofsky. He should be taking a break from guys for a while. Right? Right. So why is it that Blaine Anderson is figuring so prominently in Kurt's life now?
1. Chapter 1

"You're so! Fucking! Stupid!"

Dave's fist slammed into Kurt's face every time he wanted Kurt to know he meant it. Kurt tried to get away, to turn his little mind-tricks: to focus his breathing, to turn each blow into just an exclamation point in his mind – to try to turn each burst of pain and fear and humiliation and anger into just a simple black mark on a page. They even looked like little fists.

Dave was starting to pant now as he twisted his arms tight around Kurt's waist, making his ribs burn as they were squeezed into a more perfect point.

"You're mine. Don't you ever try that shit again. Mine," Dave's voice dropped to a possessive whisper and he brought his mouth to Kurt's sweaty neck, biting out purple hickeys, not caring if he broke the skin, as his grip moved to Kurt's hips, squeezing and rocking and moaning as Kurt scarcely breathed because he didn't know anymore what would set Dave off, he didn't want to find out –

A car alarm pierced the still night and Kurt sat bolt upright in bed, the moon spilling through his curtainless window. Kurt realized where he was, and who he was, and just how short a time it had been since he'd filed that restraining order against Dave – and put his exhausted face in his hands and cried. He'd lost to the nightmares. Again. Kurt Hummel had always taken pride in who he was – strong, able to defend himself – but he never felt like that person anymore. He felt like a stupid fucking weakling who had to see a psychiatrist every other day and tell her sob stories just to make it through the fucking week. He was sick of being this spineless piece of shit, and he cursed Dave with all his fucking heart for sucking him dry of that last ounce of courage.

Kurt stared glassy-eyed at the blank walls around him, at the untouched boxes of Vogue in the corner, outside at the pale, open moon.

Why was Kurt being such a fucking coward?

He found himself counting the customers in line at the coffee shop where he worked to see if he was going to have to serve someone even resembling Dave – at the slightest inclination to hulkishness or brute strength in one of his customers, Kurt skipped off into the back room to inventory stacks of paper mugs. He hated it. But it was that or end up in the men's bathroom, retching into the sink. He couldn't help it – he would see a thick fingered hand dip into the tip jar and some twisted part of his brain imagined that when he looked up he would see Dave's face, he would see Dave sweet and sad and threatening, Dave playing bedroom eyes, he would feel that thick-fingered hand coming against his with a sharp crack –

So he tended to avoid the hulking customers.

Kurt listened to his psychiatrist despite all of his qualms; she said that eventually his mind would calm down and that time was the only thing that could help him. Time or pills, she told him seriously, and immediately he opted for time. Time. Kurt had to show that he really was strong inside somehow; maybe he could just show that he was strong enough to wait through this time.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his bad days and even worse nights, Kurt was surviving. He still had his job and his auditions and his friends. And it's not like football players came to Java House often.

He was not at all intimidated when one warm, lazy afternoon, a chipper hobbit of a man stood across from him at the counter asking for a medium drip, please. Kurt stood more than a few inches taller than him and could see easily where the greasy hair product the stranger had combed in that morning was starting to stiffen, but Kurt rang him up without comment and started to write on the paper cup. "Name, please?" he asked, bored.

"Blaine," said the guy, and oh my goodness Kurt suddenly realized he had a voice like he'd never heard before, husky and like sex on a stick but also with a little bit of laughter in it, and Kurt had to admit that laughter had been missing in his life for a long time now.

But then Kurt snapped back to reality, catching himself just staring at Blaine, sharpie poised over the cup. He tried to recover a tiny shred of his dignity – "How do you spell that?" he asked, even though, he wasn't stupid, he had a pretty good idea.

"Surprise me. Extra points for creativity." The stranger – Blaine – winked, and Kurt blushed and smiled at him before turning around to hand over the cup to Serena, his lovely blond counterpart on this shift Tuesdays and Fridays. When he turned back to the counter, he was surprised to see Blaine still standing there. Staring. Kurt felt his face really start to heat up. "Yes?" he asked, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Blaine flushed instantly. "Sorry! Just trying to figure out…is that sweater Alexander McQueen?" Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yes…yes, it is, it's from his 2009 collection and I almost didn't wear it today, I didn't want to get coffee on it…but, yes, it's his." He cringed inwardly at the complete awkwardness of that statement.

"I like it." Blaine smiled at him again and Kurt felt his heartbeat start to pick up…that smile and that voice and those pretty hazel eyes…

"Medium drip," called Serena from the drinks table a few feet away. Kurt cursed that drink and all of the other coffee- made drinks in the universe when Blaine's eyes pulled away from his. He looked out the store's front window, trying to get ahold of himself. What was he even doing? This guy could be straight for all he knew, and how exactly was this supposed to help him get over his other issues? _Fuck, Hummel, get a grip,_ Kurt snapped in his head. _You can't be trying this after a couple _days_ of sexual frustration. You can't just fall for the first guy who you see immediately after you've filed a restraining order against your previous boyfriend. You just can't._

He was snapped out of his personal crazy universe when Blaine stepped in front of him, between him and the window. He was pouting. "You spelled my name right," jokingly putting on puppy-dog eyes. Kurt smiled at him distractedly because he wasn't supposed to be thinking this but god was that _cute_. Blaine didn't seem fazed. "No extra points for you today," he said, winked, and left the coffee shop. As soon as the tinkling off the bell on the door signaled Blaine's exit, Kurt let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. And then he spent the next few hours of his shift agonizing over whether that last comment meant that Blaine was coming back tomorrow.

…

Despite his best efforts to be cavalier, Blaine actually was a little disappointed. As soon as that (cheesy, stupid) line had popped into his head and somehow managed to tumble its way through his lips, Blaine had been hoping that Kurt (he wasn't a creep for sneaking a look at his nametag, right? that's what they're there for) would pull something crazy, maybe spell Blaine s-e-x-y and add a phone number to boot. That's certainly what the string of men Blaine had recently dated would have done – hell, they had! Blaine hadn't had much trouble keeping his promise to himself that he wouldn't flirt with every stud in this town before he at least settled into his apartment – until he walked into Java House and saw Kurt. _That_ had hit him like a shit-ton of iron in the nuts, and before he knew it he was winking and smiling and pulling designer names out of thin air (thank god more than a few of that long line of men had taught him a thing or two about fashion) just to get some hold in the world of this beautiful creature who didn't seem to even notice his existence. Blaine was about to redouble his efforts, to mention something lewd and crude just to watch Kurt blush, to see what would happen when Kurt was certain of his intentions, when he saw what Kurt looked like lost in thought. Delicate. A half-distracted eyebrow quirked, and was that a yellowed bruise at his temple? Kurt looked like he hadn't slept in a long time, Blaine realized, and he also realized that he really did think Kurt was beautiful. And Kurt probably wasn't that kind of guy at all, not one of those desperate guys Blaine had been wasting his time with, and Blaine understood – that made him very special. So he should probably take a different tack the next day, more subtle, with sweetness and flowers for beautiful Kurt… Blaine's thoughts starting to drift into nonsensical mumbles, he absentmindedly looked down at his watch and –

Well, he was going to have to damn near sprint for the bus, but hell, was it worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine did indeed show up the next day. He walked in with a cheery hi! and a silly diva act that he'd better get his medium drip NOW, or shit was gonna go down. Kurt felt like he had never laughed that hard before in his life because he felt like getting hysterical as soon as Blaine walked through the door. Today Blaine made him so nervous because Kurt had to work extra-hard to stay just a friend. An acquaintance. An employee. God was Kurt screwed. Blaine had him and he knew it.

….

A few days later, Kurt was watching Blaine at the counter (not creepily, he told himself, just…admiringly) as he pushed down on the plastic top of his medium drip. Kurt literally could not tear his eyes away. Who knew arms could be so sexy? He practically jumped out of his skin when he felt a hip brush his arm. "Enjoying the view?" Serena winked at him. "Shut up, Serena, just shut up!" he hissed. Blaine looked up just then and Kurt turned crimson, immediately glancing down to fiddle with the cash register. When the cash drawer popped out and hit him in the gut, Serena said, "Look, Kurt. I say this because I care. You're both obviously smitten, why don't you just make it official already?"

"It's not that simple," Kurt muttered.

"Oh, but isn't it? Look at him, Kurt." Kurt did. Blaine was perched on the arm of one of the sofas, with a newspaper in one hand and coffee in the other. "Do you really think he's paying attention to that newspaper? Because to me it looks like he's trying to send out a message – _notice me, Kurt, notice me_."

"You are certifiably batshit," said Kurt.

"So are you for not taking advantage of _that_," she said, casting a significant glance at Blaine's chair. "He's been a perfect gentleman and you know it, so why not give the boy a little of what he wants? I bet he's been late to work every single day waiting around for you."

"Don't be stupid, Serena, no one starts work at two in the afternoon."

"NOW, Kurt."

Kurt sighed, knowing better than to argue about anything with Serena. "Whatever, just give me my mocha," he said, pointing to the half-finished cup on the counter behind them and pulling off his apron. He might as well break, customers never came in this late in the day.

Which is how Kurt found himself standing in front of Blaine a few seconds later with a newly refilled grande nonfat mocha and absolutely nothing to say.

Blaine appeared to be still reading his newspaper. "Um..." Kurt said, trying to make himself known. Oh, way to go, Hummel. How genius.

Blaine lowered his newspaper. "Didn't see you there," he said jokingly, and his eyes literally sparkled. The question _Oh my god, how are you this perfect, are you a vampire?_ bubbled up in Kurt's head, but he managed to suppress it. But then he also noticed that Blaine was kind of uncomfortable too, and blushing up to the tips of his ears. Suddenly Kurt realized –

"Oh my god. How much did you hear?" He sank into the love seat opposite Blaine. Now he was the one blushing all over.

"Uh…enough." Blaine smiled and folded over his newspaper.

"Got it. I am going to kill Serena!" he called, making sure she heard him. He heard a giggle as someone walked into the back room and shut the door. They sat in silence for a moment. Blaine cleared his throat.

"So!" Kurt said. "Uhm…have I really been making you late to work every day?"

Blaine laughed. "A few times. But I don't have to work today until six, so…"

"So?"

"So we can talk all we want." Kurt could tell Blaine was trying to be casual, but there was something hiding beneath those words, a burning desire that made Kurt shiver. He decided that Blaine just really needed to get laid.

….

It was a week before they talked about anything really of note. They really just got to know each other during their daily conversations. Blaine was an actor in an improv comedy troupe a little ways away, which was why his coffee schedule was so weird – he and half the cast snuck out during the director's meeting. He had just moved here – he had found an apartment literally the first day he had walked into Java House. And Blaine got to find out about Kurt: coffee clerk to pay the bills (not that the measly paycheck could cover Alexander McQueen very easily), but auditionee whenever he got the chance. They spent as much time as they could talking before Wesley, the skinny, combed-over manager, checked to see if his employees were getting actual work done, or before Blaine had to leave for work. Kurt had no idea where they stood, if they were engaging in an extremely platonic relationship or if they were just being friends or if Blaine was just a very open-minded straight guy who wasn't very observant or what. Blaine didn't either. Both were kind of waiting for the opportune moment.

….

"Phoenix, huh?" Kurt asked him.

"Yep. City of sun and tans and not much else," Blaine told him.

"Is that why you left?"

"Well, no…I mean, I didn't have any more shows to do there, the lease was almost up on my apartment, I guess I just decided to take off one day, and here I am."

"Really?" Kurt didn't believe him. Not one bit. Or maybe he could just tell that Blaine was hiding something.

"Okay, there were…romantic complications…too."

"I knew it. There always are."

"So…what exactly was your romantic life like back in Phoenix?" Kurt asked him. Blaine cringed inwardly.

"Oh…well, I didn't really have any steady dates. I, um, mostly just…" he waved his hand around vaguely. "You know."

"No, I don't know." Blaine cringed again. Kurt was purposefully torturing him.

"Okay, you caught me – I'm a man-whore," Blaine groaned. Kurt giggled a little, but didn't say anything, looking a little worried. "But – ah – not like this!" Blaine blurted. He could feel himself turning red. "I mean, this isn't me…whoring around." He saw Kurt's lips twitch a little, so he decided it was safe to continue. "Most of my relationships in the past have been…well, not really relationships at all. Mostly one-night stands – or a couple of dates where eventually one of us forgets to call back and neither of us really cares." He winced. "I'm not really proud of it."

"You shouldn't be," Kurt murmured, and Blaine's eyes immediately snapped to his in alarm, but Kurt was smiling gently, forgiving. Blaine smiled back and traced a pattern on the table between them, absentmindedly staring into Kurt's eyes. They were such a pretty green and just so…wait. Kurt had said something. What did Kurt say?

"I'm so sorry, what?" Blaine asked, blushing again.

"If I'm not a lame date or a one-night stand, then what am I?" Kurt's lips twitched again in amusement.

Blaine smiled.

"A new chapter. A better chapter." And then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Kurt's perfect cheek, savoring the feel of his pale, smooth skin.

…

Kurt knew as Blaine pulled away that he had turned bright red. The place where those (gorgeous) lips had touched him felt like he had stuck it in a wall socket. Most of him was flying but the rest of him felt…incredibly guilty. He hadn't told Blaine anything about Karofsky, Blaine didn't know he was getting damaged goods, and Kurt didn't want to tell him. It was nice not being "the victim" to someone. He squeezed his eyes shut, needing the darkness for a few seconds. The sun really was horribly bright.

"K-Kurt?" He opened his eyes and there was Blaine again, looking petrified that he'd done the wrong thing. Kurt smiled, because Blaine looked adorable even when scared out of his wits.

"Sorry, Blaine. It's just…I…uh, wow." Kurt finished inelegantly.

"Ohmygod you're not already going out with someone, are you? Because I thought…" Blaine trailed off, looking helpless and biting his lip. Kurt wanted to laugh. Really hard.

"No. No, Blaine, I…I like the idea of being a…new chapter. I really do." Kurt moved his hand across the table to cover Blaine's. When that happened, Blaine looked like he just might recover. He grinned at Kurt. "Good sir, may I please take you to dinner tomorrow?" he asked, the spark back in his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you may." Kurt grinned back.


	4. Chapter 4

It was Monday night and Kurt was standing in front of the mirror in his apartment in a huff because his shirt collar _would not_ stay straight and even though he had shampooed twice his hair still smelled like coffee and WHAT was he even doing. Blaine was taking him to dinner. Dinner! He hadn't been to dinner since you-know-who and he could feel a panic attack bubbling up in his throat so maybe he should just call and cancel –

Someone knocked on the door. Kurt heaved a gusty sigh, tried to center himself like Dr. Moumni taught him, and then went to open it. Blaine was there, with a smile so big that Kurt just leaned against the doorframe and laughed. All of his nervousness was slowly ebbing away when Blaine pulled a rustling cone of cellophane out from behind his back. "These are for you," he said of the pretty yellow snapdragons.

"Oh my goodness Blaine, they're perfect. Hang on, let me get a vase." Kurt grabbed the flowers and skipped happily into the kitchen. This night was going to go fine. As long as he was with Blaine, he thought, he might just get along all right.

….

They were both finished with their dinner and had reached a comfortable lull in the conversation when Kurt spoke. "Blaine?" he asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"Why do you think…why do you think you got around so much?"

Blaine jumped a little. He really hadn't been expecting any questions like that. Kurt continued, "I mean, you really don't have to answer if you don't want to, I was just…curious."

"No," Blaine said, "It's a good question. Just…let me think." He was quiet for a minute, staring at the salt and pepper shakers. "I think it's because – I never really valued relationships at all. My parents hated each other and stayed married, I guess I just kind of assumed that marriages – and all relationships – were mostly for sex, or convenience. I never knew what love was at all; I assumed that it was what I was experiencing when I would hook up with these desperate guys for a couple weeks. …Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah," Kurt murmured, staring into his lap, "Yeah, it does."

"Kurt…" Blaine reached across the table to lift up Kurt's chin, he wanted so badly to look into those green eyes. "I didn't know what love was…until I met you. Now I do." Kurt's eyes started watering and Blaine couldn't stand it anymore. "Kurt – I think I love you."

Kurt choked a little. A tear ran down his cheek. His laugh was half-strangled in his sob. "I think I love you too," he whispered. "I'm just…very cautious…I don't think I could stand getting hurt."

"I don't think I could stand you getting hurt." Blaine wiped away Kurt's tear with the pad of his thumb. "I'm not going to hurt you, Kurt Hummel. I swear it." Kurt sobbed again and squeezed Blaine's hand until his knuckles started to turn white.

"You might just be my kind of guy, Blaine Anderson." Kurt laughed softly and enveloped himself in the warmth of Blaine's awkward over-a-table hug.

….

Blaine walked into Java House the next day smiling cockily and with a guitar slung over his shoulder. He strode right up to the counter, grabbed Kurt's collar, pulled him close, and kissed him boldly. Thankfully the shop was just as empty as it usually was.

"Blaine, what –"

"You'll see."

"_Blaine_,"

"Just shh." Blaine swung the guitar around to his front. "Kurt Hummel, I like you. Lots. I think you're silly and sexy and wonderful and I will only leave if you ask me. I care about you; I want you to have faith in me. So I think you deserve a serenade."

"But –" Kurt looked stunned.

"Kurt, shut up, you're gonna miss the song," Serena said as she elbowed him in the ribs. Blaine winked at her before beginning to strum his guitar. Then he started to sing and was there anything that boy could not do? That voice was like a gift from the gods. It was enough to rival Kurt's.

_I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you_

_Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you_

_I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down, I wanna come too_

_I think that possibly, maybe I've fallen for you_

_No one understands me quite like you do_

_Through all of the shadowy corners of me_

_I never knew just what it was_

_About this old coffee shop I love so much_

_All of the while I never knew…_

_I never knew just what it was_

_About this old coffee shop I love so much_

_All of the while I never knew_

_Ooh_

There was a short guitar break and Blaine's eyes never left Kurt's.

_I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you_

_Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you_

_I've seen the waters that make your eyes shine, now I'm shining too_

_Because, oh because, I've fallen quite hard over you_

_If I didn't know you I'd rather not know_

_If I couldn't have you I'd rather be alone_

_I never knew just what it was_

_About this old coffee shop I love so much_

_All of the while I never knew…_

_I never knew just what it was_

_About this old coffee shop I love so much_

_All of the while I never knew…_

_All of the while_

_All of the while_

_It was you_

_You…_

After a few more measures of strumming the song petered out. There was an awkward silence in which Kurt just stared at Blaine.

"Well? No snarky comments?" Blaine asked, smiling cockily once more.

"But – I – you don't even play guitar!" Kurt had never felt more flustered in his life. His ears were burning because a boy had just played him a song, and here he was blabbering and oh. _Oh_. It finally sunk in. Blaine played him that song. Blaine cared about him. Blaine had more faith in him than anyone ever had, more than Kurt had in himself. Kurt pushed through the swinging employees door on the counter and gave him a tight hug. "I love you, Blaine Anderson," he sighed, feeling the comfort he found only in Blaine's arms. Despite the guitar between them. Kurt kissed him then, with passion and all the love he had to give. When the kiss was over, Blaine leaned his forehead against his. "I love you too, Kurt," he said. And that was really one of the best things Kurt had heard in a long time.

A/N: The song used is "Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg.


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks later, things were going great. The relationship was progressing swimmingly (Kurt couldn't help but smirk to himself at the thought of exactly _how_ well it was going, and what events may or may not have happened in the stairwell of Blaine's apartment and in a Katz's restroom) and Kurt felt for the first time that maybe he finally had a chance. Kurt went to bed happy one night, pretending his lover was right beside him, caressing the sheets and pillowcase. And then he had a dream. And it featured none other than Dave Karofsky, looking more dangerous than ever. Kurt couldn't even describe the expression on Dave's face: he was smiling, but it was a crude mockery of the charming smiles that graced Blaine's face every day. And that smile that matched with those eyes – Kurt knew what that meant, there was only one thing there: unhindered lust. He watched in horror as Dave conjured up a stage and a spotlight and a guitar out of smoky air, all the while unblinkingly staring at Kurt. He licked his lips before clearing his throat and starting to speak.

"So you like serenades, Kurt?" He strummed the guitar and started to sing:

_Don't drink the water here..._

_Come out, come out, no use in hiding._  
><em>Come now, come now, can you not see<em>  
><em>There's no place here, what were you expecting?<em>  
><em>No room for both, just room for me.<em>

_So you will lay your arms down,_  
><em>Yes, I will call this home.<em>

_Away, away, you have been banished._  
><em>Your land is gone, and given to me.<em>

_And here I will spread my wings._  
><em>Yes, I will call this home.<em>

_What's this you say, you feel a right to remain?_  
><em>Then stay and I will bury you.<em>

_What's that you say, your father's spirit still lives in this place?_  
><em>Well, I will silence you.<em>

_Here's the hitch, your horse is leaving._  
><em>Don't miss your boat, it's leaving now.<em>

_And as you go I will spread my wings._  
><em>Yes, I will call this home.<em>  
><em>I have no time to justify to you,<em>  
><em>Fool, you're blind, move aside for me.<em>

_All I can say to you my new neighbor,_  
><em>You must move on or I will bury you.<em>

_Now as I rest my feet by this fire_  
><em>Those hands once warmed here, but I have retired them.<em>  
><em>I can breathe my own air and I can sleep more soundly<em>  
><em>Upon these poor souls,<em>  
><em>I'll build Heaven and call it home<em>  
><em>Cause you're all dead now<em>

_I live with my justice_  
><em>And I live with my greedy need<em>  
><em>I live with no mercy<em>  
><em>And I live with my frenzied feeding<em>  
><em>I live with my hatred<em>  
><em>And I live with my jealousy<em>  
><em>I live with the notion that I don't need anyone but me<em>

_Don't drink the water_  
><em>Don't drink the water<em>  
><em>Blood in the water<em>  
><em>Don't drink the water<em>

Dave's eyes, which had been locked on Kurt's the whole time, flicked away from his to glance pointedly at the corner of the room. There was a table there that Kurt hadn't seen before, it looked like a prom table with glittery decorations and a cheesy mermaid sculpture and three large punch bowls. Kurt suddenly found himself in front of the table staring into the punch bowls; they were filled with a viscous crimson liquid that of course was blood and when Kurt looked up he saw the mermaid wasn't a mermaid at all, it was Blaine's crumpled, mangled body on a plastic pedestal, bruised, bleeding into the punch bowls – Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand because he didn't know what else to do, but when he did it was limp and cold and would never play guitar again and Kurt woke up screaming so loudly his lungs burned; he kept on screaming, harder, louder, faster, even when he was awake.

A/N: The song used is "Don't Drink the Water" by the Dave Matthews Band.


	6. Chapter 6

It was the next day and Kurt had been in and out of the bathroom, he hadn't eaten lunch and was running on nothing but mocha, he had a headache and his throat was sore and every time someone so much as brushed their hand with his, he jumped like they'd been holding a taser.

Blaine walked in. He had a big, goofy smile on his face and Kurt saw it but it just didn't register, he was too busy concentrating on not throwing up. He fiddled with one of the ties on his apron.

"Medium drip?" Kurt asked as cheerily as he could when Blaine approached the counter. He didn't meet his boyfriend's eyes, didn't want anything that could trigger another flashback, and a trip to the bathroom in front of Blaine was just a little too much stress to consider right now. He started to walk over to the coffeemaker when Blaine took his hand gently, pulling Kurt back to him.

"Let Serena make it," he suggested. Kurt could almost hear him smiling. Blaine intertwined their fingers and Kurt was still not looking at him, just staring at a spot on the counter where someone had spilled a little bit of sugar and hadn't cleaned it up. "Hey," Blaine said after a moment, sounding concerned, "What's the matter?" Kurt didn't answer. "Kurt," he said, "Look at me."

Kurt continued to stare at the sugar. "Everything's fine, Blaine," he said. But even he could tell that he was unconvincing, he didn't care, he was tired and his body wanted to curl up and go to sleep but when he went to sleep everything got worse so why bother? If it was between this hell of anxiety and that hell of Dave and blood and fear, where the fuck was he supposed to go? "I don't believe you," Blaine said quietly. "Look at me."

What else could Kurt do? He met those hazel eyes.

….

Kurt was sobbing, Blaine was sitting on his bed holding him, it was sunset and Blaine could hear cicadas starting to trill outside the window.

"Wh-why is it," Kurt paused in his crying to ask, "that half the times I see you I have some sort of complete mental breakdown?" Blaine muffled a small laugh in Kurt's shoulder. His eyes felt swollen. He had been crying too, he'd cried ever since he'd figured out that Kurt wasn't breaking up with him and he understood what the real problem was. He cried when he heard what his lover had been through. And he hated hearing what Kurt was still going through, he wanted to end Karofsky, not just wasting the worthless sonofabitch in an alley somewhere, but destroying all versions of him everywhere – in Kurt's mind. He wanted Dave to vanish forever so Kurt could finally be happy. He forced himself to stay calm, he had to remember that Kurt, precious Kurt, was in his arms. He listened as Kurt hiccupped himself to silence, rubbing his back and murmuring hushed, nonsensical things in his ear.

"I love you, Kurt Hummel. I will never let anything happen to you." Blaine didn't know what else to say, but he did know that those words were exactly how he felt. Kurt wormed himself closer into Blaine's arms. "I love you too," he said, but his voice broke on the last word and he pressed his face into Blaine's shoulder so that Blaine could feel the tears seeping into his shirt. An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of Blaine's stomach and he sighed. "Kurt, you don't have to," he said softly. Kurt raised his head and looked straight in his eyes. "Don't have to what?" Blaine felt himself starting to tear up again. He choked on the rising heat in his throat. "Don't have to…love me," he managed to say. "I mean, you don't have to say you love me. If you're not okay with us…I saw how you looked at me today in the shop, if I'm part of the problem, please just say so."

"Blaine!" Kurt immediately shot up in his seat and threw his arms around Blaine's neck. "Oh, Blaine…I do love you. I do. Don't ever think otherwise. Ever. I just…I'd just dreamed you were d-dead, Blaine. I was afraid I was going to look into your beautiful face – "he pulled away from Blaine to look at him. He smiled. But then the smile fell. " – and not see you. I was afraid you would be broken and pale and taken away from me." He cupped Blaine's cheeks and Blaine savored the relief of those cool white palms against him. "I love you," he whispered. Blaine felt himself relax; he pulled Kurt into a close hug; they spent the rest of the night enjoying each other's company.

….

But Blaine wasn't letting go. He was not condemning his lover to the torture that he knew Kurt would go through if this didn't end. Kurt needed to talk to someone, and Blaine couldn't think of anyone better than himself. But when he tried to bring it up one night, Kurt immediately rebuffed him.

"Why do you think he still scares you so much?" He knew that there were probably better ways to start conversations like these, but Blaine hadn't come up with any. Kurt froze for a second, then shrugged.

"It's fine, Blaine. I'll get through it." Blaine was slightly stunned at Kurt's offhandedness. But he was not going to be brushed off so easily.

"Kurt, you need to talk about this."

"That's what my therapy sessions are for." Kurt went on ignoring him, fiddling with something on his phone.

"You said yourself they weren't working," Blaine said, his eyes on Kurt's downturned face.

"I said it was getting better."

"Yeah, and then it got _worse_." Kurt was still ignoring him. Blaine finally swatted the phone out of his hands. But his annoyance was stopped dead in its tracks when Kurt left the phone where it was and buried his face in his hands. "Look, Blaine," he said, his words muffled from the palms mashed against his lips, "I really don't want your help."

"Why not?"

Kurt groaned and sat up. He was about to snap at Blaine when he saw the I-mean-business expression on Blaine's face.

"Look, Blaine…I…" he ground his knuckles together, trying to think of how to phrase his feelings exactly. "If I tell you about Dave, I feel like a victim. I don't want to feel like a victim, I don't want to be treated like a victim, because I am not a victim. I'm me. So please, can't we just – "

"No." Kurt started to protest more, but Blaine held up a hand. "No. We can't. We're going to talk about this. Don't tell me to just ignore it because that's not helping, that's ignoring, and it's not going to make you feel any better. I love you, Kurt," he said with a glint in his eye, "I care about you and I have faith in you and if you think I'm just going to let you sit back and take this shit from the universe, then maybe you really don't know me at all."

Kurt worried his bottom lip as Blaine reached across the table to hold his hand. "Trust me, Kurt," he said softly. Kurt sighed deeply, trying to expel all of his doubts and fears on that single gust of air.

"Why am I afraid of him still?" Kurt asked quietly. "I don't know. It's like there's an alarm bell in my head that goes off whenever I start to feel remotely happy, reminding me that he's still out there and that anytime he could just pop in for a visit and kill me. Or kill you." He sucked in a breath, feeling his cheeks start to get warm. "And when that's not happening…I'm afraid of my fears, I guess." He let out a humorless sound that could have been a laugh. Ha. "I'm worried that one day I'm just going to snap and I'll be living in my nightmares, and you would only be a dream. That life will suddenly be the other way around." He shuddered. "It scares me that he gets to me so much."

"Don't worry, Kurt." Blaine smiled, and Kurt felt his heart melt and pool somewhere around his collarbone. "Whenever he tries to get to you, I'll be right there standing in his way."


	7. Chapter 7

Blaine's little "sessions" continued like that. Kurt insisted that he limit himself to one question a day. So far they had gone through How did he hurt you and How did he hide it and Why the hell would he even do that. And as ridiculous as it was, Kurt actually seemed to be feeling a little better. And one day, on the couch at Kurt's place, Blaine asked How can I make you feel better and Kurt pulled him closer for a messy kiss, all dueling tongues and roaming hands. Blaine moaned as Kurt cupped his ass and shoved his hips down to meet him. Blaine pulled away to flick his tongue around the shell of Kurt's ear. Kurt started slowly rocking their hips together, making all sorts of breathless noises as Blaine nipped his way down to his collarbone and started sucking. He shuddered at the feeling of Kurt's length on his ass. Kurt managed to gasp out "bedroom" before they came in their pants like a couple of teenagers, and soon they were stumbling into Kurt's room, panting. As soon as they got there, Kurt instructed, "Take off your shirt. NOW." Blaine was happy to comply as he sat down on the bed, shifting uncomfortably in his skinny jeans, and Kurt ripped off his sweater and threw it on the ground before he bent over, rummaging around in a drawer for something. Blaine couldn't help but check out his lover's ass and he also couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to be inside him…Kurt looked really tight, his brain mumbled as all of his blood rushed southward and his cock throbbed painfully as it strained against his jeans. Blaine shucked them off faster than he even thought he could and leaned against the headboard in his boxers, watching Kurt. Kurt grabbed something and stood up with a muttered "finally" and when he turned around he spent a very long moment running his eyes up and down Blaine's body. Then he also pulled off his jeans; Blaine noticed the stark contrast between his black boxer-briefs and the pale whiteness of Kurt's body. Kurt got on the bed and leaned over him, sucking a hickey just under Blaine's jaw. Blaine saw the bottle of lube and condoms that Kurt had put on the bedside table and he said "How long – ah! – have you had those?"

"Since the day you first sang to me," Kurt whispered hot under his jaw, and began palming him through his underwear. Blaine moaned again when Kurt bit down on his hickey and he ran his hands down to Kurt's ass, savoring the sounds he made when he squeezed.

But Blaine had to stop. He wasn't going to last through much more of this. "Wait," he gasped as he sat up, straddling Kurt and leaning their foreheads together, "Do you…do you want me to…"

"Yes," Kurt panted, snatching the lube off the table and handing it to Blaine. Blaine grinned.

"Take your shorts off," he said as he opened the bottle. Kurt did so, leaning back against the pillow with one of his knees falling over to the side. Blaine also pulled off his boxers before slicking up his fingers, admiring how Kurt looked with his skin shining with sweat and those green eyes turned up towards him – Blaine leaned over Kurt and kissed him as he slid one finger into Kurt.

"Mmph," Kurt grunted.

"More?" Blaine suggested, his face hovering millimeters from Kurt's.

"No – slower. Just go slower."

"Sorry," Blaine flushed. He wasn't exactly used to someone as unique as Kurt.

"Don't be," Kurt smiled. "It's just – been a while." Blaine's heart felt like it was breaking and melting at the same time at that, and he brushed a gentle kiss to the inside of Kurt's thigh before starting again. He did go slower, but soon he could add a second finger, and a third, and Kurt's hips were bucking against him and he was pressing himself into Kurt's thigh and finally Kurt said "Please…baby, please." Blaine grabbed a condom and ripped off the wrapper with his teeth (thank god he'd done that loads of times) and he rolled it on and squirted the lube all over himself, it was spilling everywhere because his hands were shaking so much. Finally he pushed inside and Kurt let out a sound between a groan and a mewl. Their hips immediately fell into the proper rhythm, Kurt's legs were wrapped around Blaine and he was muttering a strange combination of prayers and obscenities until Blaine met him with a hard thrust and he felt Kurt's whole body tense. Kurt started screaming, and not in a good way. Blaine wanted to stop, he started to pull out but his hips were still rocking of their own accord, before he did he heard Kurt scream "Da-ave!" Then he was out and Kurt pushed him away to curl up in the fetal position sobbing, sticky cum all over his stomach. Blaine sat for a moment and stared at him, his blood-deprived brain taking a while to register what was going on. But something instinctual in him saw poor, beautiful Kurt and scooted closer to him, rubbing his hand in circles along his back. "Shh, baby, it's okay," he whispered. "Relax. Take a few deep breaths." Silently he offered the same advice to himself, trying to ignore his still-throbbing erection.

Kurt smacked his hand away. "Don't touch me!" he almost screamed, his voice high and breathless.

"Baby, I – I'm just trying to help." Blaine had never felt more confused. Kurt's whole body was shaking as he slowly sat up to pull the blankets around him. He sat and looked at his knees for a long time, thinking, and Blaine thought back to the Kurt he had seen on that first day in the coffee shop. Delicate, yes, but resilient. He knew that Kurt could get through this. "Blaine," said Kurt, and surprisingly his voice was steady. He wouldn't meet his lover's eyes; Blaine knew something was wrong. Well, obviously something was wrong. "I think we should take a break for a little while."

"No!" The word burst out of him without even processing. "No, Kurt, I can't let that happen. We don't have to be dating and we don't have to have sex, but Kurt, I am not letting you leave my life. Ever. I will see you every day."

"Blaine…I just…clearly I'm not over this. Clearly I'm not a good guy for you. You need someone who can have fun with you and laugh with you and screw with you and I'm just not that person. I can't do it!"

Blaine's heart fell out of his throat into somewhere past his diaphragm. "You are that person, Kurt. You're everything to me. I love you."

Kurt looked at him, finally, with a hopeless expression on his face. He was defeated. "Just leave, Blaine."

"No. I'm going to stay right here."

"Just – "

"No, Kurt."

Kurt closed his eyes. "I'm going to sleep."

"I'll take the couch."

"Mmm."

Blaine gathered his clothes and put them on as slowly and quietly as possible, trying not to disturb Kurt but also trying to stay in the room to make sure that Kurt slept. He watched as Kurt's breathing became slow and deep, and he stood over his lover resisting the urge to press a kiss to his forehead. Then he left the room.

….

Blaine was lying on Kurt's couch with his eyes closed, but he was not sleeping. It was one of those nights where thoughts just sprint through your mind and never give you any peace. He heard something creak and saw that the door to Kurt's room had opened a small crack and watched as Kurt slipped through. Kurt made his way towards the couch and Blaine shut his eyes, pretending to sleep so he could be as non-invasive a presence in this house as possible; he felt really guilty about imposing on Kurt at a time when he was so vulnerable, but something told him that if he had left, he would never be able to see Kurt again and he was not going to let that happen. He heard Kurt's footsteps slowly approaching the couch; he felt Kurt's presence right next to him. Watching him sleep. Blaine's heart flipped over in his chest. Then Kurt started to sing softly, almost absentmindedly…

_In every heart there is a room_

_A sanctuary safe and strong_

_To heal the wounds of lovers past_

_Until a new one comes along_

Kurt sat down on the arm of the couch next to Blaine's head. He brushed his hand over Blaine's forehead tenderly.

_I spoke to you in cautious tones_

_You answered me with no pretense_

_And still I feel I said too much_

_My silence is my self defense_

_And every time I held a rose, _

_It seems I only felt the thorns_

_And so it goes, and so it goes,_

_And so will you soon I suppose_

_But if my silence made you leave_

_Then that would be my worst mistake_

_So I will share this room with you_

_And you can have this heart to break_

Kurt paused for a moment. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to Blaine's forehead.

_And this is why my eyes are closed_

_It's just as well for all I've seen_

_And so it goes, and so it goes_

_And you're the only one who knows_

_So I would choose to be with you_

_That's if the choice were mine to make_

_But you can make decisions too_

_And you can have this heart to break_

_And so it goes, and so it goes_

_And you're the only one who knows_

Kurt's song finished. He pressed another kiss to Blaine's forehead and slowly made his way back to his room. Blaine cried silently into his borrowed pillow.

….

Kurt had made it back to his room and was about to turn off the light when he heard an odd snuffling sound coming from the other room. Blaine was awake, he realized. Blaine was crying. He tiptoed back to the couch and touched Blaine's back lightly. He jerked up and stared into Kurt's eyes, clutching the pillow. "Kurt, I…come here," he said, and Kurt did, sitting next to him. He pulled Kurt into a tight embrace. "Of course I would never leave you," Blaine whispered. "You know that. I love you." Kurt just sighed, savored the feeling of being in Blaine's arms. "Kurt, I – " Blaine said, then he broke off, lost in thought. "I just want to help you. I just don't know how. I – "

Kurt was pleasantly surprised when Blaine began to sing, at first soft vocalizations, then words. Words that helped Kurt understand exactly what Blaine had been feeling these past few days, trying to understand Kurt's troubles. Kurt loved Blaine.

_la la la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la_

_I hold you in my arms, yeah that's when it starts  
>I seek faith in your kiss and comfort in your heart<br>I taste the seed upon your lips, lay my tongue upon your scars  
>But when I look into your eyes we stand worlds apart<br>la la la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la_

_Where the distant oceans sing and rise to the plain  
>In this dry and troubled country your beauty remains<br>Down from the mountain road where the highway rolls to dark  
>'Neath Allah's blessed rain we remain worlds apart<br>la la la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la  
><em>

_Sometimes the truth just ain't enough  
>Or is it too much in times like this<br>Let's throw the truth away we'll find it in this kiss  
>In your skin upon my skin in the beating of our hearts<br>May the living let us in before the dead tear us apart_

We'll let blood build a bridge over mountains draped in stars  
>I'll meet you on the ridge between these worlds apart<br>We've got this moment now to live then it's all just dust and dark  
>Let's let love give what it gives<br>Let's let love give what it gives

_Let love give what it gives_

_Let's let love give what it gives_

_Let's let love give what it gives_

_Let's let love give what it gives_

_la la la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la_

"Let love give what it gives," Blaine whispered to Kurt at the end of the song, and Kurt was only too happy to comply, pressing his lips against his lover's.

A/N: The songs are "And So it Goes" by Billy Joel and "Worlds Apart" by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. This story was inspired by "Worlds Apart", although it started out as an entirely different one shot. I personally love this song for this part because it is a perfect balance between the scariness and grittiness of "Don't Drink the Water" but matches the delicacy of "And So it Goes", but at the end of the song, the tenderness wins out. Just thought I'd share.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt took the next day off. He was going to the matinee of Blaine's improv show that afternoon, and he didn't mind at all sitting with a bunch of little kids and listening to corny jokes (they couldn't tell dirty ones at the matinee) like he knew he was going to have to. He and Blaine had slept in that morning, moving from the couch at about dawn with sore backs, opting for Kurt's bed instead. They had woken up about noon and Kurt normally would feel like a lazy bum for doing so, but today it felt just right. At first he had been worried because he hadn't called in to work and he was late, but Blaine explained that he had texted Serena that morning as he handed Kurt the coffee that he had percolated to perfection. Blaine's "hopeless romantic" must have been rubbing off on Kurt because Kurt hadn't ever thought he would describe coffee as "percolated to perfection." After Kurt got to shower and change and began to feel like himself again, they went out to a (very) late breakfast together. They were walking through the park with their fingers intertwined (Kurt was on the lookout for the less open-minded people in the area, but there didn't seem to be any out today) when Blaine sat down on a bench. "Come here, you," he said, and Kurt sat right beside him, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. "I love you," he whispered to Blaine. "I love you too," Blaine whispered back.

Kurt stared up at the sunlight filtering through the trees. Amazing how something could dazzle and be so gently radiant at once. "It's just so nice being outside," he mused. "I never really notice it; I'm never really out unless I'm walking from one place indoors to another." He sighed contentedly. "It's just so pretty out here."

"It is," Blaine murmured. Kurt looked at him and of course he wasn't looking at their surroundings; he had eyes only for Kurt. Kurt blushed and looked back out at the trees, at the children playing on the playground. Then a shadow passed through the corner of his vision.

"Kurt?"

Kurt froze. His every inch of being refused to believe who the owner of that voice was. He shut his eyes tight. He heard Blaine saying, Excuse me, can we help you, and he wanted to cry out, No, get away, get away, you can have all of me, take it, but you can't have my Blaine! He opened his eyes and forced himself to turn his head to the speaker.

Dave Karofsky was ignoring Blaine, just looking at Kurt. "Kurt – I – " Blaine had sussed who he was and said, "Look, you need to leave," but Karofsky wasn't having any of it. "Kurt – baby, please – "

"DON'T YOU CALL ME BABY!" Even Kurt was surprised at the sheer volume of noise that had just escaped his mouth. For a moment, all three of the men were stunned. Karofsky looked like he was about to cry, then beat someone up. And maybe cry while he was doing it. Kurt looked at Blaine, not wanting to watch his ex-lover any longer. He drank in Blaine's face (at the moment incredibly surprised, but a little bit proud too) and looked over his cheekbones and stubble and lost himself in Blaine's eyes. There he found a center.

"Look, Dave," he said, "I'm with Blaine now. He's mine and I'm his. And unless you want me to call the cops right now for violating your restraining order, I suggest you get the fuck out of my life. NOW." Karofsky said nothing, just turned on his heel and ran, gravel scraping under his feet. Kurt sank back onto the bench, shaking a little. Blaine flopped down with an oof! right beside him. He wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulders. Kurt was determined not to cry. "I have never been more proud of you, Kurt Hummel," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Kurt's temple. And that was all Kurt needed; he felt the little kernel of strength inside him begin to blossom and grow.

….

The show had been fine, although Kurt honestly hadn't been paying that much attention (he swore to himself he was going to come back and actually watch his boyfriend _perform_ very soon). He couldn't tell what was more distracting – his mind flashing back to what had just happened in the park, or Blaine's gorgeousness. Blaine's gorgeousness won.

He waited around after the show ended, leaning against a wall near the stage, smiling at the house manager and feeling like an idiot. He could see her contemplating whether or not to call security. Thankfully, she just left. Blaine came out of the backstage area a few minutes later and rushed down to Kurt. He hugged him tight, whispering, "Hey, beautiful."

"Hey," Kurt whispered back. He giggled. "You're all sweaty."

"Aw, but you like it when I'm sweaty," Blaine said.

"So maybe I do," Kurt said, smiling. "Can you hold it against me?"

"Nope," Blaine smiled too. Then his eyes turned softer. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," said Kurt. And he was. For once he was telling the truth.

"You sure?" Blaine asked.

"Yep." Kurt took Blaine's hand and twirled himself around slowly. Blaine laughed. Then he pulled Kurt close again. They just stood there in the darkened house holding each other.

"Hm, a real stage," Kurt whispered absentmindedly, resting his head on his lover's shoulder.

"You wanna go up?" Blaine asked. "Mariah won't mind."

"Hell, yes, I want to go up!" Kurt said. And Blaine took his hand and led him up the steps to the empty stage. Kurt looked out into the sea of black chairs. "Sing something, Kurt," Blaine whispered to him. Kurt didn't have eyes for the audience any longer. He looked at Blaine. And he started singing something that had been playing in the back of his mind for a long time, just weaving its threads through little thoughts that burst forth in tiny sparks, whenever he thought of Blaine, Blaine, always Blaine.

_Driving through the desert I met a man  
>Who told me of his crazy plan<br>He'd been walking there for 20 days  
>He was gonna walk on for 20 more<br>I said, How 'bout a drink or a bite to eat  
>He said, No, my faith is all I need<br>So then, save me, save me  
>Mister walking man, if you can<em>

_You don't need to prove a thing to me_  
><em>Just give me faith make me believe<em>  
><em>C'mon save me, save me<em>  
><em>Mister walking man, if you can<em>  
><em>C'mon save me, save me<em>  
><em>I said, Stranger if you please<em>  
><em>Save me, save me<em>  
><em>Stranger if you please<em>

_Or am I too far gone?  
>I said, to get back home<em>

_How 'bout you take a ride with me_  
><em>We could kill some time, shoot the breeze<em>  
><em>He said, Every whispering wind and second counts<em>  
><em>Oh, maybe if you walk but you should drive around<em>

_Save me, save me_  
><em>Mister walking man, if you can<em>  
><em>C'mon save me, save me<em>  
><em>I said, Stranger, if you please<em>  
><em>Save me, save me<em>  
><em>Stranger, if you please<em>  
><em>Or am I too far gone?<em>  
><em>To get back home<em>

_I don't need you to stop the sunshine, no_  
><em>I don't need you to turn water into wine, no<em>  
><em>I don't need you to, to fly<em>  
><em>I'm just asking you to save me<em>

Kurt kissed Blaine passionately then; when he pulled away, Blaine knew what was coming next. He joined in, smiling:

You might try saving yourself

_I'm gonna save me_

You might try saving yourself

_I swear those lips shine_

You might try saving yourself

_As it, the, the moon it shines_

You might try saving yourself

Kurt stopped singing; he was smiling so wide he felt like his face was going to crack in half. Blaine was smiling too, on the verge of happy laughter. "Kurt," he said, pulling Kurt closer, as he always felt he needed to, "You did it already. What am I supposed to do?" Kurt threw back his head and laughed, then entwined his fingers with his lover's. "Love me," he said. "I already do." Blaine kissed his cheek. "Well, keep on doing it," Kurt sassed him half-sincerely, "Because I love you too. I plan to for a long time." The kiss they shared then was probably – definitely – one of the best, and Kurt was so excited for this even newer chapter that he couldn't wait to get the pages turning.

A/N: The song is "Save Me", also by the Dave Matthews Band.


End file.
